The Edge of Burnout and a Canyon of Bliss
My journey continued from Doneztebe, with the plan to hug the Spanish coastline. The road has been my home for a while now, and my body was starting to protest. After nearly 1800 kilometers since the week began, the accumulated strain was making itself known. A persistent nerve pain shot through my left arm, something that even painkillers and massages couldn’t soothe. I even discovered some mysterious bruises on my legs, with no memory of how they got there. Mentally, I was just as worn out. The joy was fading, replaced by a sense of just going through the motions. It felt more like a frantic race than the relaxing vacation I had envisioned. It was clear a real break was long overdue.
Despite the fatigue, the route to Potes offered some incredible sights. The road danced between the lush, green inland hills and stunning views of the coast. The constant climbing and descending brought a welcome change of pace to what could have been a monotonous ride.
The final hour of the day’s ride, after turning south at Unquera, turned into one of the most amazing experiences of the entire trip. The road carved its way through a narrow, dramatic canyon. A river flowed beside me, switching from my left to my right as the path twisted and turned between steep, towering cliffs. It was a motorcyclist’s paradise. Even with some delays due to construction on damaged sections of the road, where I had to wait for my turn, it was the perfect end to the day. Recalling a lesson from my last trip, I decided to just let the camera roll, trusting my gut to capture the moment without overthinking it. I could always edit it later, but you can never get back a moment you failed to record.
Arriving in Potes, I was completely shattered. I managed to check into my apartment, haul my luggage upstairs, and make a quick run for groceries. Since I had a small kitchen, I treated myself to a huge steak. It was the first meat I had eaten all week, and it was exactly what I was craving.
Later that evening, the weather shifted dramatically. What was a warm, sunny day instantly turned into a fierce thunderstorm that raged for half the night. While the cool air was a welcome relief, the storm brought a new problem. The weather forecast for the next few days predicted more afternoon thunderstorms, complicating my plans.
I went to bed early and still managed to sleep soundly until noon the next day. It was a clear sign of how desperately my body needed to recover. In the afternoon, I chose the hottest part of the day to explore Potes. It’s a beautiful town, full of old buildings and framed by the ever present mountains in the background.
Back in my room, I took a hard look at my itinerary. With the unpredictable weather, I decided it was best to leave the north for now and make a more direct push towards Portugal. My next stop would be Léon. I had hoped to ride the full loop through the Picos de Europa national park, but it wasn’t meant to be. Instead, I’ll ride half of it and then head south. Perhaps I can revisit and complete the loop on my way back.
Impressions
